


Causing Trouble in the Dark

by FagurFiskur



Series: 30 day cheesy tropes challenge [30]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Criminal Dean, Handcuffs, M/M, Police Officer Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 04:43:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1765894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FagurFiskur/pseuds/FagurFiskur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then Winchester opened his eyes and Castiel realized that he still had not looked away. That he had drifted closer to the other man, so close that he was hovering less than three inches away from him. Castiel scrambled to come up with some explanation for his behavior, but all he could think was: Winchester had beautiful green eyes.</p><p>"Huh," Winchester muttered and licked his lips, successfully drawing Castiel's gaze from his eyes. "Well, that's one way to pass the time."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Causing Trouble in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> 30 day cheesy trope challenge: #13 - Handcuffed together
> 
> [The challenge](http://ghiraher.tumblr.com/post/37135733342/30-day-cheesy-tropes-challenge)
> 
> Title is taken from C'mon by Ke$ha because I love Ke$ha and why not.

"Do you think you could loosen these cuffs?"

Castiel glared into his lap, resolutely ignoring the criminal sitting next to him. Maybe if he ignored him, he would stop talking.

"Just a little bit?" Winchester needled. "I think it's cutting off the circulation to my hand."

"If I loosen them, you will attempt to escape," Castiel replied through ground teeth. "I am not willing to take that risk."

Winchester yanked his cuffed hand to the side, causing Castiel's cuffed hand to drop from where it was propped underneath his chin.

"Stop that," Castiel hissed, finally looking up. Winchester was looking back at him with a self-satisfied grin, all too pleased to have caught his attention. Castiel briefly entertained a fantasy of removing one of his socks and stuffing it in Winchester's mouth. It wouldn't shut him up for long, but those few moments would no doubt be blissful.

"Why'd you cuff yourself to me, anyway?" Winchester asked. "Wouldn't it have been easier to cuff me to, I don't know, pretty much anything else?"

Castiel had never meant to cuff himself to a known criminal. Especially not with his back-up still half an hour away. Winchester had resisted when Castiel had not expected him to (what kind of a man struggles at gunpoint?), and Castiel had panicked. But he was not about to give Winchester the satisfaction of admitting that out loud.

"How much do you get paid, anyway?" Winchester asked. "Thirty thousand a year? Thirty five?"

"That's none of your business," Castiel snapped.

"Can't be enough," Winchester continued. "Not with all the hours of paperwork and all the late nights, not to mention the stress of it."

"Most of which has been caused by you in the past seven months," Castiel couldn't resist pointing out.

Winchester held up his free hand in a placating gesture. "I'm a criminal, dude, it's my job to cause you stress. It should be the government's job to pay you enough to wanna put up with it."

Castiel furrowed his brow. "Is this your attempt at bribing me into letting you go?"

"Shoot," Winchester laughed. "You caught me."

"I won't accept any bribe.”

"Come on, you haven't even heard my offer!"

Castiel glowered at the other man. He couldn't help but find it insulting that Winchester would attempt to bribe him, even if he was a criminal. His opinion of Castiel could not be high if he expected him to break the law for a quick extra buck.

"Shouldn't have brought it up," Winchester said, his tone something approaching regretful, if mockingly so.

"No," Castiel agreed, "you shouldn't have."

"Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

"You can stay quiet."

And for the next, blissful five minutes, Winchester did just that. He was so quiet, in fact, that Castiel couldn’t resist peeking at him from the corner of his eye, just to make sure he was still awake. His eyes were closed, so Castiel dared to turn his head. Winchester was leaning against the wall, his chest rising and falling slowly. By all appearances he looked to be in deep sleep. Castiel had no doubt this was not the case, but while his eyes were shut, at least he was free to examine him without judgment.

He didn’t look much like a hardened criminal. Then again, Castiel had been on the force for ten years, and he knew just how deceiving appearances could be. Still, he couldn’t remember ever arresting anyone who looked quite so… pretty. It was a strange thing to think about a grown man, but there was something about his features that could only be described as beautiful. The long eyelashes that fanned across his cheeks when he closed his eyes, the freckles dusted over the bridge of a perfectly shaped nose. Those plush lips, pink and just slightly swollen, as if they'd just been-

Castiel shook himself, horrified. What was he doing? Was he so starved for sexual attention that he would fantasize about any handsome man he saw? Even worse, a man he had just arrested, a man he had spent months on end chasing. Had his unwilling year-long abstinence turned him so depraved?

Then Winchester opened his eyes and Castiel realized that he still had not looked away. That he had drifted closer to the other man, so close that he was hovering less than three inches away from him. Castiel scrambled to come up with some explanation for his behavior, but all he could think was: Winchester had beautiful green eyes.

"Huh," Winchester muttered and licked his lips, successfully drawing Castiel's gaze from his eyes. "Well, that's one way to pass the time."

And then he straightened and swung his leg across Castiel's lap, so that he was straddling him, pressing against him in a very distressing manner. Castiel only had a split second to worry about Winchester feeling his rapidly hardening cock through his pants, before another disaster presented itself.

Namely, Winchester’s pink, slightly swollen, and as it turned out incredibly soft, lips pressing against his. Castiel raised his free hand, meaning to push him away. Somehow, that turned into grabbing Winchester’s shirt and pulling him even closer, and now there was no avoiding the fact that Winchester knew that he was hard. At least it seemed he wasn’t the only one, and the feel of Winchester’s hardening bulge pressing against his caused Castiel to groan in a way he hadn’t done in far too long. Winchester seized the opportunity presented to him and thrust his tongue inside Castiel’s mouth, all hunger and no finesse.

But Castiel didn’t care about finesse just then, didn’t care about anything but getting Dean – and he had to call him Dean now, he couldn’t very well refer to someone he was all but dry-humping by his last name – closer. Their kiss was more a fight than anything loving or affectionate, but it was so delicious. All that energy, all that anger, finally getting some sort of outlet.

Then Castiel raised his other hand, in an attempt to grab Dean by the shoulder, and it stopped short. Because he was still handcuffed to Dean.

Castiel pulled away, leaving both of them gasping for air. “We shouldn’t – I shouldn’t-“

“Fuck shouldn’t,” Dean panted.

“This is immoral, not to mention illegal-“

“Who’s going to know?”

“There are other officers on the way,” Castiel reminded him.

“This won’t take long,” Dean said, smirking against Castiel’s lips. “Come on, Officer. I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty backed up. I’m betting it’s been a while since you saw any action that wasn’t your right hand.” Castiel would be deeply insulted if it weren’t so true. “We’ll be ten minutes, tops.”

“You certainly know how to seduce a man,” Castiel deadpanned. “I thought the general rule was to promise you would be last longer.”

“Extreme circumstances.” Dean ground down, and the sudden bolt of lust that shot through Castiel like lightning pretty much decided his fate. “You can’t tell me you don’t want this.”

Castiel really couldn’t, so in response, he grabbed Dean by the hair on back of his head and tugged him into another hungry, open-mouthed kiss. Judging by Dean’s stuttered moan, he did not object to the rough treatment.

They moved together, Dean undulating his hips in Castiel’s lap, Castiel pulling and pushing when he got impatient, and finally, controlling the rhythm all together. Dean’s free hand moved to grasp Castiel by the shoulder.

“Tell me, Officer,” he muttered between kisses, “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Cas- Castiel,” Castiel stuttered, as in that moment, Dean leaned down and bit his earlobe.

“Hmm.” Dean raised his head again, kept his eyes level with Castiel’s. “I like it. Cas.”

Castiel scoffed. “Castiel,” he corrected.

“I’m screwing you, I get to call you a nickname,” Dean muttered, voice amused. “Sorry. I don’t make the rules, I just follow them.”

“That-“ Castiel’s breath hitched as Dean changed his angle, suddenly pressing their cocks even closer – as close as they could be through four layers of fabric. “That would be a first.”

Dean laughed breathlessly. “Guess so.” His hand moved up, cupping the side of Castiel’s face. “Hey, Cas? Real sorry about this, by the way.”

Before Castiel could even process those words, Dean’s grip on his head tightened and then his head was being knocked against the wall behind him. His vision began to blur and, to his horror, slip away into darkness.

“Stop,” he muttered, tongue thick and heavy, and then he knew no more.

\---

In the end, Castiel escaped from the whole ordeal with nothing more than a slap on the wrist and a bump on his head. No one suspected, or had any reason to suspect, how Dean had made his escape. Castiel certainly wasn’t going to offer that information first hand. Especially considering that he had only just managed to convince Captain Shurley to let him stay on the case. If anyone was going to bring Dean Winchester to justice, it would be him.

Castiel did not discover how lucky he had been until two days after the whole ordeal, when he happened to put his hand in his pocket and discovered a note he did not remember being there before. It was a small, worn piece of paper and on it, someone had hurriedly scrawled:

_Next time, I’ll bring the handcuffs._

_\- D_


End file.
